


long exposure

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe- Trans, Dom/sub Undertones, Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Innkeeper Sylvain, M/M, Oral Fixation, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, trans character written by a trans person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This story is part of the LLF Comment Project (including the LLF Comment Builder), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:Short commentsLong commentsQuestions“<3” as extra kudosReader-reader interactionThis author replies to comments.





	long exposure

He finds Felix cloaked against the inn’s stable doors, shaking from the cutting chill.

Wrapping him against his chest, Sylvain ensnares his hooded head in a fierce grip before leading him through the inn; he’s careful to dodge between frothy newcomers, most of them garrulous, belligerent men from the nearby village, spoiled by the land’s riches or misshapen corpses starved of any sustenance beyond stomach acid.

Leading Felix up the staircase, Sylvain exchanges a meaningful gaze with the innkeeper, a younger man, clipped and dreadfully quiet when it comes to his immediate goings-on outside the inn’s walls: mind Sylvain fulfills his end of their bargain, that he maintains the cleanliness of hearth and pantry in order to consider the inn’s rented lodgings his own, they share something of an affinity with one another. 

The innkeeper’s brow twitches, and then he nods once. _ Yes,_ Sylvain nods back in kind, _ this is he of whom I speak in verse aloud when I think you cannot hear me. _

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, thus entering Sylvain’s lodgings, subdued in the sobering chill of nightfall, candles not yet roaring, Felix halts, stunned. He cannot immediately comprehend the newly made bed, the bare nightstand, the bedsheets supplied with a thickness long forgotten. Approaching the pillows, he trails the calloused fingers of his right hand down their seams, his mouth clenching. 

Before he’s aware of his intentions, Sylvain guides Felix to the bed by his shoulders. Lifting the frosted hood from Felix’s head, his gaze returns to Felix’s mouth, supple and open, his lips shining.

Heart seizing, Sylvain curses himself for misremembering the laborious journey Felix undertakes every time he escapes all obligations to his dukedom in favour of Sylvain. Though wilderness surrounds several small hamlets in which bands of hired mercenaries live out their days, the bandits and thieves that manage to infiltrate the armoured barriers would sooner cut out their own tongues than spare the privileged life of a travelling nobleman.

And Felix, however he tries, cannot hide the stench of his nobility from the shrewdest hounds.

Sylvain dare not take him now, not with him in this state of delirium. Thank the Goddess no one’s roughed him up, though knowing Felix, he may have bandaged the worst of it. 

A cursory inspection under Felix’s arms and down his inner thighs reveals no hastily wrapped bandages caked with dried blood, no bones floating in places they shouldn’t be, no twisting joints that draw out a gasp.

Sighing, Sylvain harkens back to a night in the distant past when Felix indulged in the act of Sylvain fucking him until he couldn’t attempt to cross the nearest threshold without _ damning Glenn to Hell, _his thighs ached so. Sylvain had sprawled him on his back across the inn’s bar before fucking into him at which point his dick smashed against the splintered end of the counter. He’d imagined red-faced men watching them, watching Felix move under him. 

That had been one of the precious days when the innkeeper entrusted Sylvain with his livelihood, himself having undertaken a mysterious ritual involving fae magick, the nature of which he’d hinted at with a rare smirk.

Now, watching Felix’s mouth move, Sylvain understands the element of enchantment hovering over Felix’s every gesture. Slowly, with one finger of his right hand, he edges Felix’s mouth open, allowing his fingertip to rest on the precipice of bottom lip and tongue, cuticle dipping low and rubbing shining gum lining.

With a sudden momentum, Felix dips his head low, full lips curling around Sylvain’s finger, the whites of his eyes hazily glimmering through dark lashes.

“_Good,_” Sylvain says, allowing himself a slow smile. He dips his finger further down the flexing muscle of Felix’s tongue, marvelling at his sculpted incisors before Felix takes him down his throat, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, head dipping lower.

Cushioning his left knee between Felix’s legs, spreading them apart, Sylvain moves a second finger past Felix’s lips. With his left, eyes never wavering from Felix’s mouth, he palms Felix’s clothed sex, fingers tensing around the familiar solidity of warmth. Gagging, Felix lunges, his lips easing further open, accommodating the breadth of Sylvain’s reach, breathing ragged.

Raising his left hand slowly from Felix’s sex, Sylvain fumbles at the bottom of his sheer tunic in an effort to lift it over his head. 

He doesn’t get far before Felix falls heavily against his sternum, mouth dripping fluid down Sylvain’s chest, mumbling something Sylvain can barely parse through the haze of his lust: “I’m going to do what I _ want_.”

After that, they go about undressing in haphazard spurts, a palpable warmth thrumming between them. Sylvain cannot avert his gaze from Felix’s mouth as he pants, glistening with sweat. 

Bare now, down to his boots skirting his thighs, Felix spreads himself down over Sylvain’s legs, dipping Sylvain’s head back over the edge of the bed, his sex scrubbed raw and, Sylvain notes, recently shaven.

“If you’re really and truly here,” Sylvain says, “and not a conjuring of my incurable depressive episodes, you might as well, beloved.” 

As Felix sinks himself around his dick, Sylvain opens his lips against Felix’s mouth. Smiling, his tongue lapping against the back of Felix’s teeth, he hums low in his stomach as Felix thrusts into him. His left hand tenderly circling Felix’s left nipple, Sylvain uses his right to squeeze Felix’s breast before leaning forward and sucking him down, his dick rising, liquefying as Felix gasps into his mouth.

He wants to ask Felix if he can come in his mouth. He’s wanted to come in his mouth for a long, long time.

But before long, Felix’s thrusts grow laboured, and his breathing slows. The swollen hills beneath his eyes haven’t gone away, and Sylvain holds him against his chest with his left arm whilst his right tears the bedsheets into an inviting diagonal. 

He buries Felix in the cocoon of his arms, mouth frozen on the side of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project (including the LLF Comment Builder), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:  
Short comments  
Long comments  
Questions  
“<3” as extra kudos  
Reader-reader interaction  
This author replies to comments.


End file.
